Knight of Maidens
by wildsky
Summary: Post S3 finale. When Gwen learns that Gwaine has been enthusiastically charming his way into the beds of the castle's maids, she decides to put a stop to it before the fighting among the women gets out of hand. Gwen and Gwaine friendship.


**Disclaimer: I don't own 'em (unless they're originals). Please don't sue me. It's so not worth it.**

**Knight of Maidens**

Gwaine reached out, murmuring too quietly for Gwen to hear, and stroked a wayward lock of brown hair away from Sarah's face. The girl blushed prettily, a coy smile lighting up her features as she basked in the knight's attention. Gwen wondered sometimes if she glowed like that when Arthur turned his gaze on her. It was a picturesque little scene, she had to admit.

It might even have been sweet if Sarah hadn't been the sixth maid Gwaine had lured into his bed since he'd arrived a month ago, riding high on the victory over the army of the living dead. It seemed that the thrill of retaking Camelot from Morgana and Morgause had given Gwaine a rather hefty appetite for female companionship.

Sadly, Gwaine didn't appear to be aware that spreading himself around was wreaking havoc with the smooth running of the citadel.

Not only had there been several instances of maids being late for their duties but Rosamund and Kate were still nursing claw-marks from the altercation they'd had the evening before in the kitchens, which had resulted in the roast duck ending up on the floor and the royals being served a rather lonely salad with their potatoes and pickled eggs. The cook had been furious.

It wasn't the first squabble to erupt over Sir Swishy Hair but Gwen was determined that it was going to be the last. She cleared her throat delicately and Sarah jumped, startled out of the moment. Gwaine looked up and his puzzled expression morphed into one of pleased surprise when he recognised the woman who'd interrupted them.

"Well, my Lady Gwen," he greeted her amiably while Sarah turned a mortified shade of red. "Looking as lovely as ever today."

"Sarah, Agnes is looking for you," Gwen said mildly and Sarah nodded, fleeing with eyes wide as saucers. Being sought out by Agnes was not a good thing.

"If you're going to chase away my friends, it only seems fair that you should keep me company," Gwaine pointed out.

"I don't think I have the right qualifications to keep you company," Gwen observed in return. "I'm not prepared to kiss you."

"Let's call that a good thing. I'd hate to have to give the Princess a beating in self-defence," Gwaine replied, all affability, and he gave her a questioning look. "Now why do I get the feeling this isn't a social call? You're frowning far too much."

"I have to talk to you about Sarah," Gwen told him flat-out.

"I'm all ears."

"I also have to talk to you about Kate, Rosamund, Brigid, Mary and Glenys."

Gwaine's eyebrows rose up into his hairline as she named his conquests. "That's quite a list you've got there."

"Yes and I have to ask you to stop adding to it," Gwen said in a rush, a little embarrassed by the subject matter. "Gwaine, I know that there are a lot of very pretty women in the castle's employ –"

"I'm glad I'm not the only one to have noticed," Gwaine grinned.

" – and I can understand your... enthusiasm for them," Gwen continued diplomatically, "but if you keep causing riots among the female servants, Agnes is going to be very upset with you."

"And who's Agnes then?" Gwaine asked, looking innocently clueless as he leaned one shoulder against the stone wall.

"Agnes is the Head Maid," Gwen explained, hoping that any moment he'd realize the trouble he was stirring up and she could put an end to this entire horrifying conversation. "The one who can make sure you never have a clean set of clothes or a good meal here again. The one who'll have your head on a platter if any more hair-pulling happens on your account."

"There's been hair-pulling?" Gwaine looked delighted. "Well now, that I wouldn't mind seeing."

"Gwaine!" Gwen huffed and the knight chuckled.

"You're adorable when you're angry, you know that?" He rose to his feet, eyes dancing with humour and met Gwen's exasperated gaze. "All right, I understand. No more tumbling the maids. Are you satisfied?"

"I want your promise," Gwen persisted, one eyebrow rising at the thoroughly unrepentant scoundrel. "Promise me and I'll let the matter drop."

"Oh come on now, show some mercy," Gwaine said ruefully and Gwen stifled a smile. She wasn't about to let him get away lightly. She wasn't exaggerating Agnes' ability to make his life in Camelot miserable if he didn't behave.

"I'm not moving until you promise," Gwen said with a shake of her head, knowing she had him.

"Fine, fine," Gwaine sighed and Gwen watched him expectantly. "I, Sir Gwaine, promise not to encourage anarchy among the maids by participating in anything that could be classified as tumbling. Good enough?" His grin was pure roguish impudence.

"And?" Gwen prompted him, giving him the gimlet eye.

"And I promise not to flirt unless they flirt first?" he added hopefully.

Gwen couldn't help it. She laughed, making the black curls at her back bounce. "All right, I suppose that'll do. Oh, but it couldn't hurt to apologise to Agnes for causing a fuss."

"Then where do I find the inimitable Agnes?" Gwaine asked with a glint of mischief in his eyes. "Is she off-limits as well?"

Gwen smiled up at him, marvelling at his ability to find fun in anything and everything. "Agnes is seventy years old and if you can charm her, I will eat my brother's shirt for dinner."

Gwaine grinned wickedly. "What goes well with sweaty cotton? Fruit wine or mead?"

Gwen bit her lip. "You know, I don't think I should take that wager," she confessed, hating to admit that he could probably manage it.

Gwaine laughed. "Smart girl."


End file.
